MAYA...

i finally figured it out to enable devanagri font on the blog, my blog was incomplete sans my maya so here goes. the poem closest to my heart...

माया...

दुनिया का हर इन्सान कहीँ ना कहीँ मेरा सामना कर्ता है,
साधू संत आदमी अनंत कभी ना कभी तो मुझसे डरता है।
मुझसे रिश्ता कायम कर, हर जीव आनंद भोगता है
फिर भोगने को तुच्छ मानकर, छोड मुझे भाग निकलता है
पहचाना मुझे?? हाँ मैं माया हूँ !!

मैं वोही माया हूँ जिसे अपनाकर हर कोई ठुकराता है
मैं वोही माया हूँ जिसे इन्सान चाहता और अज्माता है

मुझमे खोये मुझमे लीन सपना देखती थो दुनिया है
पर भरम टूटकर जब खुद पर शरमाये, कहती कारण माया है
मध् लोभ क्रोध और कामना मे बहती जाती थो दुनिया है,
पर आत्मा को उत्तर देते कहती कारण माया है।

खुद पर नियंत्रण खोकर क्षणिक सुख भोगती तो दुनिया है,
उस क्षणिक सुख के भोग का पर इलज़ाम खाती माया है।

कहते हैं द्रोहकाल के वक़्त मन्ड्लाती एक साया है
मुझमे खुद को भुला देती है दुनिया पर कहती कारण माया है ।
मेरे साये को जादू समझ मंत्रमुग्ध होती तो दुनिया है,
जादू से जीं भर आये तब कहती ज़ह्रीली माया है

हद को पार हर सरहद को पार करती अजब दुनिया है
खुद के चंचलता को भूल पर कहती कारण माया है।

अपने लिए अज्माकर मुझे बीच मझदार छोड जाती तो दुनिया है
उसी पथ पे मुक्ति मोक्ष खोजते कहती, बीच खडी माया है?!!

मुक्ती मुक्ती के नारे से पावन कहलाती दुनिया है
बिन मुक्ति बिन साथी के पापी कहलाती माया है
माया से सब कुछ पाकर, उससे छूट जाती दुनिया है...
साबका साथ होकर भी तनहा रह जाती माया है
तनहा रह जाती माया है ॥

saranya

msg on a coffee table

Have u ever wondered how significant the role of destiny is in everyday life, in every single step of life, its a plan really that reveals itself time and again at every point. i used to be this absolute believer in signs and clues that destiny would give me every single day of life, i would find meaning or a hidden msg in every single moment that'd pass me by. like that first crush of mine in school days, he'd just be singing some dumb song and I'd think its destiny giving me a clue, or like that old pile of pathetic poetry that I'd find each time i cleaned my cupboard, I'd think twas destiny... it was fun, back then it was lot of living. what happened later?? well i just stopped making a note of reading destiny's signs on my 'to do' list.
i was walking down mg road the other day alone doing some unnecessary shopping (read as killing time waiting for... u know what!) i was meditating on how i had become this 'oh my fate i surrender to thee' types and was just being carried around by daily routine and days had run into weeks and weeks into months... when i happened to pass by the old coffee house and since i had very few lesser mortal goals to achieve ahead of my evening, i stepped in for a coffee. The place still had its aroma (of real coffee unlike the contemporary coffee shop clones) the way it used to , years back when my uncle used to take us to the park down the lane and then buy us cookies or a sandwich and we would indulge in happy idle pratter and cause havoc to everything from the furniture to the cutlery and the hotel staff would just let us be rather than stop us brats from the rampage. and of our favourite pastimes would be good ole graffiti, i used to write my new word of the day on it bad spelling et al...then walk down to the park again buy helium balloons, and on the way back home buy lots of lilies and roses for my room, then spend the rest of the evening putting up the stuff all around my dwelling. Madness!!

i walked up the stinking side stairs to the first floor, sat idly on the worn out wooden seaters on the rear side... the interior had hardly changed and so had the upholstery (all about keeping tradition alive!!). the friendly forced smile bearer uncle came around to take my order, one veg cutlet and a coffee ordered i sat down with my miserable attempt at finishing Chaucer's Canterbury tales, as i ran through his description of each pilgrim at the inn i looked around at each of my co-coffee pilgrims, quite a variety indeed!! I'm sure twas worth a Canterbury tales dwitheeeya!! after some attempts at playing Chaucer i got back to the books, my food arrived too, i began eating, hardly paying attention to the food, when the coffee cup drew my attention by rubbing against my arm and spilling some of its contents on my papers kept on the table, god why couldn't i just eat without spilling stuff over, as i tried rescuing my papers on history of literature to be tampered by the advent of caffeine... my eyes took notice of the table, graffiti!, twas a writing i recognised, of course it was my own writing... the good ole graffiti alright!! i suddenly felt 'me' from the past was talking to the 'me' in the present. i that one moment visuals and scenes of a girl full of life hope love and joy running about and doing little chores for people, buying flowers, writing poetry, waiting for calls , writing bday cards, laughing singing dancing...believing in the certainty of destiny and the prince on horse top!! i missed her, that one moment i wanted to stretch my hand out into the words scribbled on the table and touch that lovely girl and get into her world of beauty and truth and destiny. bearer uncle came back to check if i was alright and offered to bring me another cuppa, i mumbled a yes and continued staring at the table, i had come here a lot of times after school days through college and later but i never saw the table or the graffiti i couldn't explain why i discovered it now and why did it matter so much now?? and guess what the me from the past had written on the table?? "Happyness" with the y instead of i.

something happened within me then. i was shaken awake by my phone's beep, twas time to leave, i hurriedly drank the second cup of coffee, caught up with a movie... we watched "the pursuit of happiness" that evening and incidentally happiness is spelt as Happyness in the movie :-)

as we returned home that night i bought myself some helium balloons and lots of flowers, destiny was my friend again, we had met after a long time, twas time to celebrate!!

The lost city

Fire! blood! arson!! weapons! a city torn apart by violence that had no reason to trigger, no reason to continue, no reason to kill!! where??? Kashmir? Ayodhya? Gujarat? no folks! bangalore yes u heard it right BANGALORE!!! pensioners paradise, the place that was hailed for its tolerant ways and peaceful co existence! it all sounds a farce, a bloody dream of despair, my city is no more safe! my city is no more a dwelling place of the by two brotherhood, my city i hate to say is mine and yet so alien in the ugly face of violence!!! just in my neighbourhood, about few kilometers away, today,
3 buses burnt, 22 injured in police firing, 3 autos burnt, 1 police constable critical and a 12 yr old boy DEAD!!
DEAD!!! DEAD!!! yes DEAD!!!
A 12 yr old boy... innocent, unaware, carefree, he must have just casually cycled down the empty road whistling his merry tune of freedom and joy, he mustve wanted to breathe a wisp of free air before going back to school to face another boring monday morning, but all the joy, the freedom the innocence now lies wrapped in a white shroud beside his charred bicycle , shrivelled and still shivering with the fright of those icy hands of violence that slashed him to death. who is This little boy who lies there? ya he is probably an answer to the search and the struggle of proponents of love and brotherhood of hindutva and islam.
The whole thing started off as a protest in bangalore east to the killing of most reverend mr.saddam hussain (saddam who? dont u know that mahatma who saved his race from hunger and strife or better described a protector king who led his country to peace) so my group of stauch human rights activists as they begged to call themselves take out this protest against the inhuman trial and hanging of the great humanitarian Mr.Hussain, then on the way to the grand mass gathering, they pluck a few limbs of passers by, burn a few buses, molest a few women, afterall they had to appease the cause of justice and sacrifice the aforesaid to the sacrificail fire of justice for all!! , that done they also burn a stary flag in saffron that probably hindered their vision during their march, Wakes up the hindu soldier... they injured human limbs i pardoned, they burnt and arsoned civilians thats pardoned too but how can they burn the most precious piece of coloured cloth, surely that deserves a hit back!! that deserves a call to all ye faithful to come together and show the might of our religously righteous self!!! We will build that temple there even if it means we are snatching away homes of ppl living there, we will show them our resolve even if it means break their very lives!!! The peace loving other community gathers to address its people and as a part of the ritual... burn, arson and kill , in the name of the holy ram!! wow!
Behold my bretheren of both faiths and the few others who belonged to neither!!! Well done!! u have eastablished the will of god over human corpses! you have proven the might of justice over fresh and free flowing blood!! you have done justice to a dead president by killing a few others and sending them to give him company, you have established a legion of limbless people to build his temple of pride bravo!!! my country men bravo!!!
But where the heck do i find sleep cos each time i close my eyes i can only see a 12 year old boy whose charred cycle lies beside his mutilated body. long live YOUR GOD OF HONouR MAY HIS KINGDOM ACTUALLY COME!!

a first hand video coverage by cnn-ibn
http://www.ibnlive.com/videos/31760/tension-runs-high-in-blore-city.html

HUSH

Hush, beat softer
Like her footsteps on the sand
See, but do not linger
Like the wind, that kis'd her hand

Hush, beat softer
Or you'll drown her tinkling laugh
The lucky wind Oh! he sways her hips
As she walks along the wharf

Hush, beat softer
Oh! don't make me sigh
Or she'll know i'm just an island
Under a lone, dark sky

Hush, beat softer
She's just passed me by
I feel like the moment after
An unsaid goodbye

Hush, beat softer
There like a whisper she stands
I see her shoulders heaving
And the breeze at play with her strands

Hush, beat softer
She turns with a tear and a smile!
The smile that tugs me closer
A tear for each lost mile

Hush, beat softer
My love is in my arms
The clouds have kissed the ocean
And the sky is blue and calm

fleeting moments dedicated to the sea at dawn

"Caravans Of poetry travelling amoc
unable to decide what to say what not
all it knows is this journey celebrating
the new beginning the meet and depart

Sometimes its funny how one is unable to understand certain inclinations, certain feeling high phases. times when some stranger just comes into life's journey from the most unexpected of quarters and leaves you misty, touched, enriched and at rare times bound. all this in just a fleeting few moments. ya sometimes those fleeting seconds last a little longer and gets stretched through forever. like the lightning, lightning in a dark alley, it is so fleeting and short but the consequences? consequence doesn't sound like the right word but well... u know what i meant to say. those fleeting moments just remain unnamed and unrecorded. Those people we are touched by in those moments remain special yet unbelonged, No matter how hard we might try to change its nature, these moments and those relationships remain just that - abstract and fleeting.
i recently saw two films that sort of dwell on this idea of fleeting, Mr & Mrs Iyer and Shabd, both films have the female protagonist coming across an unexpected and unplanned for rendezvous and being taken up by the sheer beauty and child like freedom in the relationship with "the other guy" but the relationship or encounter comes to an abrupt halt and they resume their lives like that phase didn't affect them much. No! neither of the films portray extra marital affairs, they portray situations (fleeting situations) that results in a catharsis of sorts for its lead ladies. a discovery of the childhood laughter, teenage freedom, revival of old interests, ability to laugh uninhibited laughter... But both the films despite ending in a politically correct climax, do not offer judgements of right and wrong. i guess cos emotions teamed up with fleeting cannot be branded Right or wrong.
So?... so nothing, its just virtue to let go of that phase, let go of attempts to define these moments of poetry, so that these put together become a new nest in some remote corner of the self. and at times of solitude or retrospect become the place to go to for a quite retreat - bask in the warmth of those unrecorded moments, take a deep breath, heave a sigh of joyful separation and come back enriched to reality.
Let the moments remain fleeting, let them remain unnamed and undefined, lest the formality cause them to degenerate and decay.

Happiness

Happiness for me??? money? friends? a heavy purse to shop? no visits to the office? well... after a lot of thought i chose the following few moments as my tangibles defining happiness
hold !! before that..

Disclaimer: The ideas stated below are strictly of a helpless poet kind, cliches abound and full of sentimental rambles, so if you are the poetry aint my kinda reading material, its best in the library n fairyland types, please skip this post. this post is just that


Little thangam, the girl who works in my place (she's 16 so by rule not a child) comes running to me and shows me her new clothes (which by the way are my old clothes that are altered to fit her petite frame) and tells me how everyone in the neighbourhood envied her and said she looked pretty with a frown.
thangam's proud and happy eyes... thats happiness numero uno

life is down in dumps, its that no job, no studies, peer group settled and me unsettled, best friend in the ICU, love life in rocks, home scenes irritable kinda phase... when the phone rings and friend 's' on a loooooooong distance ISD call in the most demanding of voices asks "why are you isolating yourself? whats wrong", u fake a bad cold and PMS and tell m its all fine, he reads thro and tells you its ok, this too shall pass. days to follow, almost from nowhere all old pals from long distances and accessible neighbourhoods call n give u a shoulder to lean on... and everybody says the same thing, "i got to know from 's' that u're down... its ok da, why didnt you call?" life seems in place... s actually makes sure everyone around knew i needed help....
s' efforts - that is happiness

i am at my wits end with a boss that doesn pay politely telling me that he p[ays according to deliverables n not time, corporate morons who dont care to respond to meeting schedules n plans, a website that fails to take off more than the initial two pages, colleagues who are as frustrated with the job and a celll phone that does not have a network even on MG Road!!! when i hear a knock on the office door, someone's come for me the receptionist says. I go unconcerned not even interested inthinking who it might be, and the guy from my hometown florist shop hands me over a whole bunch of red frsh roses, the prettiest i've seen and says "flowers for u ma'am". and the delivery reciept has his company's name in the sender's column
Those flowers the sender's thought and my colleagues' chiding - thats happiness


i drop into college to fill in the convocation form thats been pending for the last 2 months its the last day of the deadline, cheesed off by the long queue i take a casual walk up to the staff rooms o drop in and say hi. Knowing i'l have to step out bafoh i actuaally meet the staff. When i bump into a teacher in whose class i said the stupidest of things and got away, she gives me her warm "hello dear, so good to see u" one liners, i make polite enquiries about her new batch, and like most teachers she too says they're not as good as my batch, and as we walk her handbag falls down n the contents spill all over the place, and amidstthe piles of official stuff i find a card i wrote to her one teachers day... she smiles through the facade and says "oh thats something i carry with me always, it reminds me of the fact that sometime down in life i made a difference in my student's life, and i read it each time i feel low... " smiles.
that tattered piece of paper with my writing in her hands - thats happiness

a dull birthday again as it is every year, i hope someone will make it special, somebody will plan a surprise (that works!) somebody will care to remember and send a card, but the day passes by like a normal dull day of gloom, i am giving up, changing into old clothes, when suddenly at 9 pm i get a call all the way from lucknow and a friendly voice greeting me to say happy birthday i am surprised she remembers, even knew my bday, and just as that call ends another friend drops in to whistle my favourite tune as my bday gift.
Those planned rememberences form unexpected quarters - thats happiness

a leisurely evening, carelessly sipping a cuppa, no hurry, no emails, no escalations, just being able to unwind with myself, then have time and the mood to clean up the racks, finding an old tape with the most soothing voice ever singing for me melodies of jagjit singh, kishore n rafi, the small msg at the end of the tape , the smile that lingers hours after the tape ends and the memory of a train leaving a station , me next to the door and a familiar face waving out to me from the platform, the train starting and stopping thrice and then chugging out hesitantly, for the first time not feeling bad about parting but being able to bask in the thought of poetry...
That leisure, that space for self, that voice, that person, that memory - thats happiness

Happiness is a way of life, it is to be able to see through the nuances of joy woven into daily mundane rituals, it is the ability to smile through tears, to have hope in despair to believe in the sunrise at dusk to be myself for a while, to have the time to be late, to eat what i want to eat, health without hidden costs and energy to do what i did as a teenager... that for me is happiness.
At the end of this post i wanna thank all u folks who played such a big role in me sitting to think what happiness means to me. My life is made up of these fragments of happiness, yes i too brood, i too crib, i too throw tantrums, i too have my mood swings but these fragments of happiness cheers me up again.
I wish for all of you loads of such fragments, these fragments are all what we could access without a need for a sign in or password. SO... Happiness anybody?

HAPPY HAPPINESS TIMES !!!

those 3 dry roses between pages of a poetry book

When the entire thing got to my nerves i told myself i must figure a way outta this passive, nothing happening mess of a phase that i was going through. i was happy, life was good, finances were stable, but for the last few days, i had this attitude of a non chalant middle aged woman who is so saturated with life that even her special some one's "I love you" doesnt cause a tingle within... its the weather i thought. i was not busy or occupied to justify the above said attitude, its like i had just forgotten to respond, relish, react... reasons or the lack of it contributed to its causal factors!! To begin with, i had to figure a way outta the mess that my room was in.
I carelessly flipped through the piles of litter around the place trying to put them away into their respective assigned stacks, clothes, cards, files, study material, old projects, books, everything... when, accidentally i lay hands on a treasure that i had long forgotten to use.
My old poetry book. I used to read it so often and write in it with so much love, i was a bubbly enthu cutlet of a young poet, but somehow amidst office mails, distance education courses, e-mail exchanges, blogs and of course orkut updates... i had neglected that part of me so much. here i was in solitude with my book, waiting to hear it air its grievances to me after so long. "where've u been all the while? darn!! i missed you!" i almost heard it say. "i missed you too" i replied with a smile. As i flipped through the pages something heavier than paper fell on my lap, three in a row... with half a startle (actually a something little less than a startle) i looked down. ROSES . dry, withering and pressed against its own petals. i paused in awe for a few seconds... god this had actually survived all the while in here? as i touched them, his face flashed before my minds eye, those strong hands that held out these very flowers , fresh then ,with the blush of his first love, those expectant eyes hoping I'd smile, they seemed to be looking into mine even now. i was suddenly transported into that other place and time, The grand palace road, the laughter and cheer in the heart during the ride on the horse driven coach around Citizen's park, the inimitable Hindi shaayiris, the sheer joy of being then n there. i had believed in fairy tales as a child, but when it was unfolding right in front of me and i was the princess i just didn't even know i was in one such tale... he covered my eyes with his hands and signalled out to the guy riding the coach to take a turn - its strange how much more closed eyes could see- we stopped at the entrance of the palace, he took his hands off my eyes and we stood in the splendour of an ancient palace white... in the depths of it, it was so old yet it spoke so much about the the nobility that lived within her doors, and the wind brushed against our faces, as he gave me those roses and the palace stood majestic and watched to tell the tale another day, just like how these dry flowers spoke to me now!! they had withered away yet they were so alive and full of tales to tell... i touched those petals again and felt that wind brush my face again... a small tear rolled down my smiling lips. god!! i had forgotten that feeling that smile that cheer that joy of seeing beauty in little things, how alive those dry roses were now!! i groped to find my mobile phone, i had to tell him... dialled his number heard his line respond with a caller tune he had downloaded specifically for me.... it kept ringing, kept ringing, no response! the line went silent, with my lips still damp with the single tear that rolled by, i spoke into the silence of the unanswered phone line "ma i just called to say - i love you, guess what i found..." maybe there is yet another book amidst his mess that holds similar flowers that would take him back in time and remind him to receive the call!!